


In Which a Facade (And a Rib) Crack

by bravest_person_in_Wonderland



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hugs, I'm Sorry, Mom Friend David Jacobs, My First Work in This Fandom, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Platonic Relationships, Whump, and i do mean PLATONIC, platonic fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:00:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27749404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bravest_person_in_Wonderland/pseuds/bravest_person_in_Wonderland
Summary: some non-life-threatening Jack whump and hurt/comfort
Relationships: Crutchie & Jack Kelly, David Jacobs & Jack Kelly
Comments: 10
Kudos: 23





	In Which a Facade (And a Rib) Crack

**Author's Note:**

> please be nice to me, this is my first Newsies fic and I'm a hopeless whumper (oops). this idea has actually been bouncing around in my head for a few days so I hope it isn't too OOC, I just... really like exploring the softer sides of characters and hurting them is a quick way to do that?? 
> 
> also I know absolutely nothing about how to treat broken ribs except for what I've read in random books so uh... sorry. :/
> 
> and lastly, I do not ship Jack/Davey. I'm just very obsessed with their platonic relationship (and platonic fluff in general, lol) so please note that I did not write this as shippy, just fluffy. 
> 
> please enjoy :)

It's simple, really. They're out selling. The Delanceys corner them in an alley, give them a soakin', and run before Davey -- who's had his feet knocked from under him -- even has a chance to swing back at them. 

Davey picks himself up off the ground, thankfully largely unhurt. Les peeks back around the pile of scrap lumber he had been shoved behind and slowly emerges, looking to first Davey for reassurance, and then Jack. Jack is sitting awkwardly near a fire escape with a stunned look on his face and an arm wrapped around his torso. 

"Jacky? You alright?" Davey asks, realizing all of a sudden how still Jack is, as if any movement will shatter him into a million pieces. Jack looks up and meets his eyes and in them he sees pain, determination, and behind that... barely-restrained fear. 

"I uh-" Jack hisses, "Don't think so?" His words come out fast, clipped, rushed out between shallow, sharp breaths. "Ain't breathin' right -- the Delanceys -- they got me pretty good." 

"Ok," Davey mutters, thoughts flurrying through his mind. Jack's hurt, pretty bad by the look of things. Maybe- his ribs? Had one of the Delancey brothers landed a hard enough hit to bust Jack's ribs? He glances at Les, who's looking on with concern, before crouching next to Jack. "Can you walk?" 

Jack hesitates. "Yeah," he says finally, though he doesn't sound sure. Davey helps him up, keeping an arm carefully wrapped around his back to support him. The fact that he doesn't pull away is telling. Either he's hurt bad enough that he can't fully support his own weight, or he's in enough pain that he's seeking out comfort. Both options mean they should be worried. 

"Les," Davey instructs, "Can you run ahead? Tell Kloppman we's heading that way and Jack's hurt." 

Les nods before darting off, and Davey and Jack follow much more slowly. 

Davey has seen Jack vulnerable before, during the strike and even since. The image of Jack staring back at him in Medda's theater, nearly in tears for fear of losing Crutchie forever, was permanently seared into his mind. But this was different. 

This, an arm wrapped around his friend as they edge home for help, backroads in the fading light of evening, hearing Jack's pained, shallow breathing as they go, is entirely different. It sends an odd pang through him, what Sarah would probably call his "nurturing instincts." He'd often been accused, with varying levels of teasing, of being a mother hen. It had even somewhat become his role among the Newsies. 

The others all knew that they could come to Davey to talk if they needed to, that he would listen and console and give as many hugs as were needed or wanted. He watched out for them in ways that even Jack couldn't. Jack took care of the boys physically, but he wasn't always good at doing emotions. It was why he and Davey worked so well together, and likely why Davey had accidentally become Jack's collectively accepted "left-hand man" (as Jack's second, Race was of course his "right-hand man"). 

Davey sends up a silent prayer of thanks when they came up on the last block to the lodging house. Thankfully, they hadn't been selling very far off today. 

"Nearly there," Davey tells Jack, attempting (and probably failing) to sound cheerful. 

Jack grunts. "Ey," he says, "Hang- hang on a sec." The two stop. 

"You ok?" Davey asks, concern growing. Jack curls his lip in a wry smirk. 

"Other than, uh... the pain... and not being able to breathe proper..." 

"Yeah, sorry I asked." Davey winces in sympathy. 

Jack still has one arm protectively around his ribs, the other thrown around Davey's shoulder. He seems to hesitate, then shifts so his arm is now hooked around Davey's neck in a half-hug, and -- most startling of all -- he rests his forehead against Davey's shoulder. 

It catches Davey off guard. Gently, cautious of hurting Jack any more, he wraps his other arm around him and tries to ignore the fears that Jack might be more badly hurt than he initially thought. Jack has always accepted any touch offered, from any of the other newsies including Davey, and even sometimes initiates it in small ways, but once again: this is different. It feels intimate, in some way, like in an instant Jack has gone from his usual snarky, tough-acting self, to the injured, scared boy he tries so hard to hide. 

"Don't tell the others," Jack mutters, his voice cracking. "Don't tell 'em I-" 

"Cried?" Davey finishes for him, and Jack nods against his shoulder. "I won't." 

They stand like that for a few seconds longer and in that moment, Davey's instinct is to press a kiss to the side of Jack's head, like he would Les or one of the younger newsies. But this is Jack, and he wouldn't appreciate it (and Davey would never hear the end of it, honestly), so he doesn't. 

It's taken long enough to get back that by the time they reach the lodging house, the sun is well on its way to being set. Kloppman is waiting, and Davey is once more incredibly grateful that the man is as experienced in as many things as he is. No one knows how he knows this stuff, but he does. He binds Jack's broken and bruised ribs and sends him to bed with a dose of painkiller and Crutchie to keep and eye on him, but not before Jack catches Davey's eye once more. 

There's something in his expression that's somewhere between a plea and a thanks. Davey nods imperceptibly from the corner where he stands with Les (who had previously been attempting to arm wrestle with Albert) and Jack shoots him his characteristic grin. 

"Thanks a lot, Dave," he calls weakly as Crutchie attempts to make him go to bed. "Love ya, buddy." 

Davey smiles. "G'night, Jacky." His _love you too_ is unspoken, but they both know it's there.

**Author's Note:**

> so Davey calling Jack "Jacky" is highkey my favorite thing in possibly the entire show so I had to have him do it in this, haha... 
> 
> also I've said it in other fics for other fandoms, but I SUCK AT ENDINGS please forgive me, the more I write the more practice I get, so... I have hope of getting better someday?? 
> 
> (also I wrote this in present tense for some crazy reason??? oh well *shrugs*)


End file.
